


Aigis's Long Easy Day

by MeltyRum



Category: Persona 3, Persona 5
Genre: F/F, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22181719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeltyRum/pseuds/MeltyRum
Summary: Aigis goes shopping, gets to be annoyed at Ryoji, and contemplates the details of human intimacy.
Relationships: Aigis/Arisato Minako
Kudos: 8
Collections: Boku no Hero Academia x Persona





	Aigis's Long Easy Day

It had been an unsuccessful shopping trip thus far: while shopping was not Aigis’s ultimate objective for the day, she thought it would be useful to pick up some of her desired materials before she made her way to the cafe. She would feel guilty, after all, if she did not try to act upon the advice which Charlotte-san had given her. The issue was deciding where to begin, or locating the types of places which might stock the products she was looking for—wandering into the nearest salon and asking about nails might look exceedingly strange when it came from a creature with no nails to speak of. Aigis suspected there would be more economical options available to her, besides.

And despite Fuuka-san’s frank conversation with her, Aigis did not feel she was prepared to shop for objects of that nature on her own, not to mention the fact that she would probably be turned away from such an establishment due to her (apparent) age. She promised herself that she would bring it up to Minako on their next meeting, however: she suspected that Minako-san would have a better idea of what sort of “assistance” to request from Fuuka, should the two of them desire such a thing.

Naturally, Aigis _was_ curious about those sorts of things and would be nothing short of elated to have a new way to enjoy her “alone time” with Minako-san. The most difficult obstacle seemed to be the tricky and embarrassing maze of social awkwardness that they would need to navigate in order to procure what they wanted. While that was—from a distance—a relatively short hurdle to overcome, even a robot with admittedly unrefined social sense was aware of the sort of discomfort these subjects inspired in people. It was something she still had difficulty speaking openly about even with Minako herself, despite the closeness they enjoyed.

She would do it, however, she reminded herself. Any hardship would be worth it if itdecreased the distance between she and Minako. Just… not today; she couldn’t make that purchase herself, even if she wanted to.

Which is how her search for more _wholesome_ products had brought her to this stuffy little place: a cluttered shop with a familiar disgruntled-looking man at the counter and only a single customer besides herself. The lighting was merely adequate and her nasal sensors alerted her to odors of old fabric and plastic; a thin film of dust on some of the products made her wonder how often the shop’s inventory made its way out the door, but she wasn’t in the habit of questioning how companies stayed in business.

Aigis slid past a bespectacled fellow in flecktarn trousers and combat boots, admiring the fit for a moment (could she slip her feet into boots like that?) before returning her focus to the shelves before her, most of which were lined with weapons she could readily identify in her database—and some of which she could even recall from her time in the field, years ago. But none of this was what interested her (not today, at least), so she soon abandoned her search and made for the counter, where the shopkeeper sat with his feet up, looking far more interested in the manga in his hands than any customers who might be in his shop.

The owner lifted the bill of his hat in order to get a better look at her, his eyes shifting between her face and her empty hands. “You not buying anything, or what?” he asked, giving her a sour look as he shifted his lollipop to the other end of his mouth.

“Not yet,” Aigis admitted, raising her hands so that he could see them clearly. “I intend to purchase some paint, but I am unable to locate any.”

“Huh? Paint?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Yes. To be more precise, I am in search of… ‘nail polish’. However, because my fingertips are metallic, I have been informed that it may be more appropriate to use an enamel paint, rather than a traditional polish.” She gave him a smile, hoping that would round out the politeness of her request. “Does this establishment carry such a product? The ideal color would be pink, but I am happy to consider others.”

The owner set aside his manga and looked at her a little more closely, recognition apparently dawning on him as she spoke. “I get it. You’re Aigis, right? That robot.”

“I am!” she agreed. “And you are Munehisa Iwai-san, formerly known as Untouchable. Fuuka-san has taught me about many heroes, including yourself.”

Iwai looked suspicious again—and maybe a little annoyed—at having his past brought up so casually. “Yeah, that’s me. But anyway, why would a military otaku shop have paint? Let alone _pink_ paint?”

Aigis blinked twice before looking to the door. “The sign indicated that this was a hobby shop, with model kits included among its inventory. My research had led me to conclude that such retailers also tend to sell paints.”

Iwai winced, his expression looking a bit like he’d been caught doing something immoral. “Guess that makes sense,” he admitted reluctantly, scratching the back of his head. “But we don’t have paint, so you’ll have to find someplace else. I could sell you a gun, though.”

Aigis turned her gaze to follow the direction in which Iwai had jerked his thumb, reading over the box he was trying to advertise. The image of the rifle on its front was clean and intimidating, making a convincing picture of military power and versatility. Certainly, the price seemed fair and it looked like a weapon that would be comfortable in anyone’s arms. However… she looked back down at him with a visage of concern. “I believe that your product is not genuine, Iwai-san. The Type 89 assault rifle does not fire plastic pellets; rather, it fires 5.56 millimeter rounds. My hands were modeled after aspects of this same weapon and are compatible with the same ammunition, so I am familiar with several of its specifications.” She showed him her fingers again, as if to demonstrate. “Your version appears to be a fake; the real model also does not feature that lever which—”

“What!? Stop!” Iwai interrupted, looking at her as though she were crazy. “Obviously it’s not a real gun—selling something like that’d be illegal. You’d think someone like you would know that already.”

The android responded with a guilty silence, glancing back to the box in order to identify her mistake. “‘Air soft’ rifle. I comprehend… it stands to reason that the average consumer would not have access to this sort of firearm,” she concluded, sounding even more embarrassed than she intended.

A barely audible sigh of exasperation escaped Iwai’s lips, and he rose to his feet to stretch his legs, his expression softening just a little. “As long as you understand. Still, it sounds like you know a lot about guns, huh? I’m a little impressed.”

Aigis nodded. “I am able to interface with a large selection of weaponry—though most of it is not available for my personal use.” Indeed, the firearms in her fingers were the only ones she could still use—and even then, only rubber bullets were available to her. While she had been in the line of duty, it was her go-to weapon outside of hand-to-hand combat; only rarely was she equipped with higher-caliber ordnance. These days, she would probably need permission from both Fuuka and the Kirijo group to use anything more dangerous than her fingers. It was a strange thing, but Aigis realized she missed it.

“In addition,” she continued, “it would be appropriate to classify me as a weapon, as well, so I have always felt an affinity toward these types of armaments.”

“Huh. Spoken like a true military otaku,” he said with a faint smile, until he realized what he’d just said. “Well—not that any otaku has ever actually said that. But I guess anyone who’s dealt with criminals will recognize a weapon or two eventually.”

She gave him a polite smile, pleasantly surprised that this misanthropic man behind the register wasn’t already ushering her out of the store. “Is it the same for you, Iwai-san? If what you say is true, I suppose a seasoned hero would have faced weapons like these many times.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “Certain people will always find a way to get guns, even in Japan. Ended up learning a lot about them back when… well, back when my quirk was a bit stronger; you need different bubbles for different kinds of bullets. That was a long time ago, though; wouldn’t fare so well against a rifle these days.” To her surprise, he looked pretty amused with himself. “At any rate, I don’t really think I can help you, model kits or not. And if you’re looking for pink, you want to find a game store or something.”

“I understand. Thank you for your assistance, Iwai-san.” Aigis gave him a shallow bow, trying not to exhibit any disappointment at yet another failed shopping visit. “I will be sure to return if I ever have need of novelty weaponry.”

“Yeah. Until then,” he muttered, giving her a look that—for reasons she could not guess—was filled with skepticism.

Still empty-handed, then, Aigis returned to the streets, pausing only to consult her cell phone for directions. It had been a (largely) fruitless journey so far, but she at least had one destination that she was fairly certain would make for a worthwhile day out. She had time, however; one way or another, she should be able to find some paints before she made her way to the cafe. The first order of business, then, was to find a game store as Iwai-san had suggested.

Aigis could not explain why a retailer of video games might also stock paints, but she was not in a position to doubt anyone’s advice.

By the time Aigis had finally arrived at her final destination, the city had grown dark and the sun had long since set behind its towering apartments and office buildings. Newly equipped with a bag of painting materials (as well as a metallic Type 94 tankette miniature on which to practice), Aigis stopped before the door of Moonlight Bridge, looking up to the sign one last time—partly to confirm she was where she planned to be, and partly to give her enough time to reconsider and turn tail, should she wish to. There was no obligation for her to return here, after all.

After using the reflection of the shop’s window to adjust the ribbon at her neck one more time, she stepped through the portal, listening for the bell as the door closed behind her, to see if it would alert the owner to her presence. She would have preferred to get comfortable before she was spotted, but knew her chances were not great.

“Welcome!” greeted the owner, who had just united one of his patrons with their drink. Flattening his tray against himself, he turned to the doorway with that usual smile, which didn’t falter even as his eyebrows rose in recognition at his new customer.

“Welcome,” he repeated, as he went to retreat behind his counter. “Sit wherever you would like, Aigis-san. I’ll be right with you.”

Although minutely surprised at his friendly demeanor, the android tried to maintain a businesslike impression as she went to the counter, sitting in the same spot where she had first met him. She set her bag down beneath her seat, grateful that everyone else inside had preferred to gather around the tables, leaving the counter empty of humans. She was also thankful that the cafe was busy enough that Ryoji couldn’t see to her right away, allowing her the time to take in the surroundings once again, conjuring up memories of her initial visit.

She felt badly about it, in hindsight. Learning the truth from Fuuka had, in some ways, made Aigis feel justified in her wariness of Mochizuki, but it was clear from the testimony that he was not villainous in nature. Indeed, Fuuka had even ultimately decided to forgive him—a decision which Aigis was not certain she could bring herself to mimic, so it was convenient that Fuuka had mercifully not demanded that she do so. She also knew that Minako had been here since their first visit and had apparently never had a subsequent negative experience.

But she had still wanted to see Ryoji again for herself. She wished she could see him in a new light—to look at him without being filled with dread and hostility. He had built a rapport with her “father”, after all, and she didn’t want to spend her energy hating someone whom her father had liked and whom her mother had forgiven.

“Good evening, Aigis-san. Do you know what you would like, or should I bring you a menu?” asked Ryoji, approaching from the other side of the counter with his trademark grin.

Against her better judgment, Aigis’s hands clamped into hard fists. She tried not to pay attention to the parts of her which tensed in alarm, instead forcing herself to wear a thin smile. “Good evening, Mochizuki-san. I would like to have some coffee again. Whichever way you recommend it.”

He nodded. “First Yamagishi-san, now you; I’m pretty lucky to have such lovely ladies dropping in. At least, I’m guessing Yamagishi-san is related why you decided to visit. I’ll go get your drink started for you.”

With no small amount of frustration, she commanded herself to relax, tearing her eyes away from him in lieu of watching him go, doing her best to suppress the instinct to keep her attention on him at all times. It made no sense, she reminded herself. There was no good reason for her to continue feeling this way around him—feeling as though she needed to flee or to fight and allowing this vile and ugly sensation to build up inside her whenever she looked at him.

It frightened her, a little bit. Aigis’s “gut” reacted so strongly in his presence… it seemed disturbingly similar to the inexplicable attraction she felt toward Minako. Naturally, that attraction was less inexplicable nowadays, but it all started from that same sort of instinctual feeling, like a poison which made her think and do things she never intended to. Was it something Fuuka-san had accounted for? A simulation of human hormones—of instinctual judgments made regardless of any evidence of right or wrong thoughts, words, actions?

No. It could not be, Aigis knew. Even if she had been designed to make snappy judgments, making assumptions of character is not something that would be useful in the line of duty, even if it made her more ‘realistic’. What if she “fell for” a criminal or—worse—exhibited random hostility toward an innocent? It would be irresponsible to program peacekeeping equipment in such a way. When it came down to it, Aigis didn’t think much of anything regarding people that she hadn’t met, even if she might broadly assume positive things about them.

The only exceptions were with Mochizuki-san and Minako-san. A man whom this untrained puppy could not help but bark and snap at—and a girl to whom it sidled up at any opportunity.

“Here you are,” said Ryoji, tugging her back into the present. “A warm drink for the lovely lady. Is there anything else I can get you? There’s nothing I can show you to prove I’m not dangerous, you know.” He smiled.

She looked up. Even though his words were sweet enough (indeed, she was more lady than puppy, whatever it was the occasional classmate said), Aigis couldn’t help flinching away from the drink he placed before her. Ashamed, she slowly took the cup in hand, nodding hesitantly. “Thank you, Mochizuki-san. I have been convinced that you are no danger, and that there is no reason for me to avoid you.” It surprised her how difficult it was to look him in the eye—one more thing he had in common with Minako, it seemed.

“Oh? I guess you said something similar the last time you were here: that I wasn’t an ‘immediate danger’.” He chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned forward on the counter. “But if you came back, you must mean it a little differently this time.”

She had a sip of the drink, unsurprised to discover it was just a normal cup of coffee. “You are correct,” she began, setting the cup back down. “After hearing the entire story from Fuuka-san, I felt it would be appropriate to apologize to you, Mochizuki-san. It was unfair of me to treat you the way I did, and so I am sorry.” It came to Aigis as a pleasant surprise that—despite the ugly feeling in her chest—the words came easily enough, with each word giving her satisfaction in being able to be spoken sincerely.

“Well, now that Yamagishi-san and I have talked it out, I could hardly blame you for thinking of me that way,” said Ryoji with a shrug, still maintaining that smile. “Are you still seeing Arisato-san? She comes in from time to time, but we don’t always have time to chat.”

“Yes, we are still together.”

“Shinso-san, too?”  
“Yes. Minako-san is still seeing Shinso-san, as well.”

He smiled. “I admit I’m a little surprised. It’s hard to think of high school kids being mature enough to maintain a relationship like that. You must all really like each other, then.”

Aigis nodded, slightly suspicious of his interest. “I trust Shinso-san and believe he is a good person, so I am happy that he makes Minako-san happy. I cannot speak for Minako-san, but I personally find our relationship… fulfilling,” she replied, a little embarrassed to share it so plainly, even if it was true.

“Sure. That actually reminds me a little of when I bumped into Arisato-san on the train,” he started, putting his hands to work at folding some napkins. “I wasn’t expecting her to answer, but I asked her which of the two of you she would choose—if she were ever forced to pick just one of you, I mean.”

Aigis blinked, looking up at Ryoji’s pause. It surprised her that he could ask such a dangerous question—and it surprised her even more that he might share its answer with her now. She was tempted to ask him not to tell her—but another part of her was hungry to know.

“Are you curious?” he asked, grinning at the inquisitive look on her face. “She didn’t ask me to keep it secret, so I don’t mind telling. She picked you, anyway, which makes it a bit easier to share. If she hadn’t, I guess I probably wouldn’t have brought it up. So maybe you can ask her to break up with Shinso-san, huh?” he chuckled.

“That will not happen,” said Aigis firmly, having another sip of coffee. “Though I admit your answer relieves me, since I could never ask her such a question myself. However, it is possible she has since changed her mind—and even if that is the case, there is no reason to worry as long as we are all satisfied with our arrangement.”

It was Ryoji’s turn to blink. “Huh. I’m pretty impressed, actually. That’s a pretty good attitude to have, for a trio of high school kids. Maybe it’s easier to act like an adult when you’ve literally got nerves of steel,” he commented, letting out another jovial little chuckle. “When she picked you, she also mentioned it was because you seemed like you would have a harder time ‘moving on’ from the relationship—but maybe Arisato-san needn’t be so worried, huh?”

Aigis paused mid-sip, surprised not only by the content of his words but by the fact that he felt comfortable sharing it. “Minako-san said that?”

He nodded. “Sure. But, like you alluded to, that was some time ago. And even if it’s true, Arisato-san doesn’t seem the type to let something like that hold her hostage to a relationship. But… you would know better than I would, to be honest,” he added with a smile.

Aigis returned his smile, slightly amazed to have gained some comfort from his words. “In that case, I agree with you. I do not think Minako-san would be with me only for my sake.” Naturally, she _would_ be heartbroken if Minako decided she no longer wanted her—it practically went without saying—and it pained her to even consider such a scenario. But the android also believed that Minako would not bear a burden uselessly, and so would (gently) release Aigis if she ever felt that she was being weighed down.

“That said, it is hard not to wonder about your relationship,” Ryoji continued, the tone of his voice creating a sinking feeling in Aigis’s belly. “It is the first of its kind, right? Not that you asked, but if _I_ was romantically involved with someone like you—a creation of science—curiosity might be enough to keep the relationship afloat, don’t you think? At least on the ‘human’ side.”

She felt a slight pang in her chest, taken aback by his boldness. It was true, though—it wasn’t as if it had never crossed Aigis’s mind. While she tried to suppress such thoughts, what if Minako was not with her _in spite_ of her being a machine, but was with her _because_ she was a machine? Would a lukewarm relationship with a robot still be new and peculiar and interesting enough to make up for whatever it is that relationship might lack? And if, like Minako-san, that robot’s significant other _also_ reserved room and time in her life for the company of another flesh-and-blood human, what would be the downside of spending some occasional romantic time with an android—if only for novelty’s sake?

Novelty…

“I just mean that at a broad level, though—not trying to imply that describes Arisato-san,” said Ryoji nervously, giving her a guilty smile. “You have my apologies if I said something strange; I was just thinking aloud—outsider’s perspective, and all that.”

“It’s alright. You are mistaken, Mochizuki-san,” said Aigis eventually, sitting up straight and looking him in the eye. “Minako-san is not that sort of person, and our relationship is closer than you might be thinking. I realize how that might sound, coming from someone who is in the relationship, lacks an ‘outside perspective’, and is not human, but I believe it to be true. Moreover, I would appreciate it if you did not speculate about her intentions without more information.”

He laughed, bowing his head apologetically. “It’s a little funny: I think Arisato-san said something similar when I asked similar leading questions about _you_. Maybe my style of gossip just can’t win against you girls. I promise I didn’t intend any offense, though. Can I make it up to you with a refill? On the house, Aigis-san.”

For some reason, the sudden meekness in his voice made her smile. “While I do not dislike it, I should not try to store any more coffee inside me. I am afraid the liquid will go to waste.”

“Fair enough,” he said with a smile, apparently relieved to have escaped any additional reprimands. He looked around the shop briefly, and Aigis could not tell if he was pleased or distressed that he had no new customers to attend to. “Well, you _did_ imply that I could speculate once I got more information. Does that mean I can ask you questions about Arisato-san?”

She gave him a quizzical look, admittedly a little nervous as to where he might be headed. “You may ask whatever questions you like, though I am curious about the nature of your interest in her,” she replied, the implication in her voice clear.

“Oh? Maybe she didn’t tell you. When I bumped into her on the train, I essentially went ahead and asked her out. But—before you say anything—she never answered me, so I don’t think you have to worry about any competition from me.” He chuckled, raising his palms in placation. “Let’s make that the first question, though: now that you know the truth about me, what would you say if Arisato-san and I were to date?”

Aigis frowned, feeling herself becoming slightly exhausted with how rapidly her mood seemed to shift in conversation with this man—from surprise, amusement, irritation, satisfaction, and now back to the vexing sting of annoyance. She wondered if he did this on purpose. “I cannot decide that for Minako-san, but I would personally be against it,” she asserted, wondering if she would be able to say it so convincingly if it was Minako asking her.

“That’s fair. In any case, there’s quite the age difference between us, huh? It would be weird if we went to a romantic dinner or something.” He chuckled dryly. “I get the impression she feels the same way you do, but she did seem _somewhat_ receptive to the idea of dating another person. What are your thoughts on that, Aigis-san?”

She gave him a serious look. "My desire, first and foremost, is for Minako-san to be happy. However, the addition of a third partner for Minako-san would concern me, if only because of how it may infringe on the time I am able to spend with her,” she said diplomatically, satisfied with the logic of that response.

“I guess so. That’d be a risk with any multi-partner relationship, wouldn’t it? To be honest, all of my relationships have been too casual for such a thing to be an issue.” He gave her a good-natured shrug. “Here’s something else I’ve been curious about: with your body not being fully human, how does that affect the way you and Arisato-san, you know… spend _time_ with one another? Physically speaking? I guess it’s not that different than people with animal quirks, but they’re still biologically human, when you get down to it.” He stroked his chin, eyes pensively tracing the ceiling. “Wouldn’t that create some difficulty?”

“Difficulty?” she repeated, a little taken aback by the timeliness of his question. In truth, this topic ruled her thoughts more than she cared to admit—and had done so ever since she first kissed Minako-san, an action which made her wonder what the limits of their physical relationship would be. She could remember that, early on in their relationship, it seemed to her as though their bodies were nothing but a barrier—hindrances and obstacles that would prevent the distance between them from growing shorter, as if they could not be “one” with one another for as long as they were separated in this way.

That was all true, of course, but the hopelessness and immaturity of wishing otherwise was something that Aigis had been glad to leave behind. It embarrassed Aigis to recall that her sense of self had been so weak that she could only imagine happiness in the impossible fusion of her “soul” to Minako’s. Perhaps that was because it was the type of relationship she was most familiar with, having spent so much time attached by the hip to her father, less as a person and more as another tool on his belt—though she liked to imagine he thought of her differently.

But then Minako had allowed her to shareall of her concerns; furthermore, Aigis met and befriended others, growing in ways she could not have guessed at, and suddenly Minako was not the only important person in her life (though still, arguably, the most important). It had been foolish of her to spend those years feeling sorry for herself, ignoring Fuuka and Natsuki and essentially waiting for her father to come back—a wish as unreasonable as wanting to live in the same body as the girl she had fallen for.

Then the two of them grew closer and the barriers shifted, though her mechanical body remained the limiting factor. Aigis had worried, ever since that first kiss, that there would come a time or situation which would be impossible to resolve between the two of them—a worry that was born from the same place whichencouraged Minako seek a mate in Shinso.

Intimacy. There were certain aspects of human intimacy which—despite _all_ of her personal improvements—Aigis and Minako would be unable to provide for each other. Even if Fuuka-san and Minako-san liked to think of Aigis as a “person” or a “human”, she was—realistically—just a construct: a simulation of humanity, and an incomplete one at that. This fact did not bring Aigis the despair it used to, but it was a truth as cold and hard and sharp as her very own machinery.

They were still learning and doing their best, of course. Even if she were not as warm, soft, or hormonal as an analogous teenager of her age, humans had found ways to please themselves with mechanical contrivances for centuries or longer. In the human tradition, then, the two of them had found ways in which they could enjoy themselves. Aigis made for a willing toy, the act of serving making her feel warm and close and—sometimes, strangely—satisfied at having found a situation in which Minako was disadvantaged, because it was one where—for certain acts—Minako was unable to reciprocate.

Which brought its own heartache, of course. Aigis was not explicitly built for this type of activity, which meant she could not participate in it in any way _except_ as a toy or a service, even if she was capable of controlling the pace, direction, and attitude of the situation; theoretically, she could be either subservient or controlling in the moment, in essence having Minako-san at her mercy… but in truth, she could only be there to serve, not to be served.

Still, she wished she could share in the feelings that Minako-san experienced.

Aigis wanted to request reciprocation, but was uncertain how to do so. It would be far too embarrassing, asking Minako to “pleasure” her when there was no way to do so. If she ever tried, it was likely that absolutely nothing would come of it. Certainly, Aigis might have pressure sensors all over her body which could function as “nerves”, but there was no machinery which might deliver her an experience alike to Minako’s.

Just imagining such awkward attempts—imagining these things she desired—made her feel uncomfortable. She could imagine Minako touching and handling her the way that Aigis would typically touch and handle _her_ , and… nothing. There was no analogous sensation that Aigis could experience—and no way her mind could process those sorts of indulgent sensations. And so there was no point in asking, even if she badly desired to. If she bore similarities to a human, then it was to a disabled one.

There was one thing which _might_ drive her to a similar euphoric delirium, but tampering with it would likely prove too dangerous to make such experimentation worth it. She would likely have to be satisfied with being a servant when it came to bedroom affairs, but such a thing was difficult enough to admit to herself, let alone the criminal who served her coffee at the cafe.

Eventually, Aigis shook her head. “I apologize,” she said finally, digging for her wallet and producing a large enough bill to cover the drink. “This is not a question which I am comfortable answering. If you are curious, you may ask Minako-san when next you see her. Thank you for the coffee, Mochizuki-san.”

After gathering her things, she graced him with a stiff bow before hastily making her exit, barely noticing the look of flustered shock on his face. While the disgust she had felt toward him had simmered to something more manageable, she wondered if perhaps they were simply incompatible, after all.

She dug her phone out of her bag, hoping it would not be too late to hear Minako’s voice.


End file.
